The Spark of the Thunder God
The more he thought about how he shouldn't sweat, the more sweat poured down his face.
The more sweat there was, the more electricity would seep into his body. He knew skin had considerable resistance. But drenched in salty sweat, it would conduct electricity just like a copper wire.
Ever since he'd gripped the Cheonroegeom in the dungeon... ever since the frequent electric shocks had made him convulse... he'd researched electricity, electric shock symptoms, and their effects.
In truth, according to medical science and electrical theory, Kim Jun should have died long ago. Vital areas like the spine and brain were extremely vulnerable to electricity.
What had kept him alive this long was the regenerative power he'd gained from the Lyposaurus. While the damned generator spewed electricity that scorched his skin, pierced his muscles, invaded his veins, and ravaged his body, that regeneration was holding back the worst of it.
It was like a siege war raging inside him.
Fierce combat between the invading electricity and his desperate regeneration.
Somehow he'd endured for three nights and four days, but now he felt himself reaching his limit.
Still, I can't give up.
The Cheonnoe Heart Technique rampaged freely within him.
The violent internal energy coursed not just through the governing and conception vessels but everywhere—major and minor meridians alike—and its speed was erratic. It shot up his spine at the speed of light one moment, then crawled sluggishly past the crown of his head the next.
Kim Jun pictured an enormous bolt of lightning crashing from the thundercloud to the ground.
Not just Yeon Chung-jae, but most Yeon Ga warriors who practiced the Cheonnoe Heart Technique used lightning as their core image. Every time they drew in qi through their breathing and stored it in their dantian, they visualized lightning in their minds.
Yeon Mu-jin was one such practitioner.
Even after focusing on that image for three nights and four days, pouring every ounce of effort into it, the Cheonnoe Heart Technique refused to obey Kim Jun's will. It wasn't like the fight in the Honor Hall against that powerhouse.
Was the image wrong?
Maybe when Yeon Chung-jae trained the Cheonnoe Heart Technique, he hadn't used a typical bolt of lightning but something unique. Kim Jun wanted to uncover it from Yeon Chung-jae's memories, but he couldn't search them like a Google query for specific scenes.
Through the image of butterflies between his palms, lightning flashing between their thin wings, he'd managed to unleash Po-noe Strike. And because he'd witnessed Yeon Yeop directly through Yeon Chung-jae's memories, he could imitate the first form of the Yeon Ga Shipil Geom.
If he could just find that core image, he could spread his internal energy, absorb the invading electricity...
All the images he'd experimented with so far flashed through his mind.
Lightning striking a lightning rod.
Mega-lightning surging upward into the sky instead of down to earth.
Lightning branching out like bare tree limbs.
He'd tried every conceivable image related to lightning, but he still hadn't found the key that would unlock the stubborn padlock.
Pain crashed over him like waves.
It hurt so badly it swept right over the breakwater his regeneration had built.
His vision went white.
Kim Jun couldn't see a thing.
Then, a flash exploded. He already knew what was happening, so he didn't panic. He just hoped his body would hold out.
At the end of a neat corridor stood a single door.
On the other side was a staircase. An old man and a boy descended it. The boy was none other than a young Yeon Chung-jae.
Where is this? I've never seen it before.
The old man stroked the boy's head.
"If it hurts, say it hurts."
"Yes, Master."
The old man led his disciple to the end of the corridor.
He knocked, and the door opened. A man in a white coat and round glasses appeared.
The old man stayed outside as Yeon Chung-jae entered what looked like a lab.
The room, filled with all sorts of experimental equipment, felt frigid.
Kim Jun saw Yeon Chung-jae lying on what resembled an operating table. Fear etched the face of the boy who'd always been so confident, even arrogant.
With the boy in the center, the doctor and researchers bustled around, preparing something. The process ended quickly, but no one explained anything to him.
A female doctor silently removed Yeon Chung-jae's shirt.
The researchers attached wires to his arms, chest, stomach, legs—everywhere. The boy bit his lip hard and closed his eyes.
"Let's begin."
One researcher said to the others.
Someone pressed a button, and Yeon Chung-jae's body jerked.
The people gathered around, noting his physical reactions and the monitor readings on their charts.
"Next."
The electricity flowing through his body doubled.
His right arm shook violently.
Yeon Chung-jae gritted his teeth. Veins bulged on his forehead, but he didn't say it hurt.
The voltage climbed higher and higher.
Now his body convulsed, and electric burns appeared across his skin.
"Does it hurt?"
The bespectacled man finally looked down at Yeon Chung-jae and asked.
"...No."
Yeon Chung-jae barely managed to reply.
"If it's painful, say so."
The test resumed.
Yeon Chung-jae endured desperately.
Kim Jun knew why. Ever since this brutal generator training began, he'd frequently dreamed Yeon Chung-jae's memories like this. That's how he'd learned the purpose of this test.
Yeon Ga prodigies showing signs of awakening had to undergo the Thunder God test.
Most failed the first stage. That was normal. A few made it to the second, but it was so agonizing that reaching the third was exceedingly rare.
Yeon Mu-jin was wrong. Yeon Chung-jae... wasn't a Thunder God. He just endured it like that.
His contorted face, clenched fists, convulsing limbs—they were proof.
Maybe the Thunder God constitution didn't exist. Perhaps only a tiny fraction of people, those who twisted their bodies through the Cheonnoe Heart Technique, could reach that realm.
Then Yeon Chung-jae screamed.
"Aaaah! It hurts! It hurts!"
Everyone looked at the bespectacled man. He was the decision-maker.
He leaned over the writhing boy.
"Endure it."
"My head's gonna explode! Save me! Dad, Dad!"
Dad?
From the others' expressions and reactions, Kim Jun realized the cold man was Yeon Chung-jae's father. Even as his son writhed in agony, the father glanced at his subordinate and ordered the voltage raised another level.
Foam bubbled from the boy's mouth.
Blood vessels burst in his eyes.
He bit so hard his lips tore and bled.
Suddenly, everything changed.
Sparks erupted from the wires on his body, equipment exploding one by one. Monitor shards flew, embedding in the researchers' flesh. Fluorescent lights burst with a pop. Sparks shot from the wall switch.
A smile finally crossed the father's face as he gazed at his son. He leaned in and whispered,
"As expected, you're my son. You're a Thunder God."
Yeon Chung-jae glared at his father with bloodshot eyes.
The old man entered.
He shoved the father aside, freed his disciple from the web of wires, and carried him out in his arms. As they left, the father said,
"Chung-jae is Yeon Ga's future. Take good care of him."
"...Chung-jae is your son."
With that, the old man vanished.
Kim Jun was ejected from the memory.
The smell of sweat returned. The generator's distinctive whine buzzed beside him. Clouds drifting across the blue sky came faintly into view.
Pain crashed over him as if waiting, but it couldn't shatter his mind. He could think of Yeon Chung-jae lying on that table-like contraption. He imagined the son's heart, suppressing agony to meet his father's expectations.
And... the moment sparks from Yeon Chung-jae's body destroyed every piece of equipment in the room.
Pop.
A familiar sound rang out.
"Huh? Wh-what?"
Yeon Mu-jin's panicked voice.
Boom!
Kim Jun didn't see it. But he knew the generator had exploded.
Finally.
He'd found the key image.
Yet he felt no joy. Yeon Chung-jae had trained the Cheonnoe Heart Technique his whole life by reliving that moment of torture at his father's hands. He'd lived decades imprinting that pain into his body, his internal energy.
He'd grown strong on the power of hatred and become the master of the Cheonroegeom.
A father torturing his son for the family's future. Kim Jun couldn't even imagine it. What had Yeon Chung-jae felt? Thinking of that profound pain made his own heart ache.
"Good work."
It was Nam Eung-ryeol.
Turning his head, Kim Jun saw him clutching a sharp shard. If Nam Eung-ryeol hadn't blocked it, that fragment would have pierced his throat.
Kim Jun closed his eyes.
He couldn't speak right now. His master lifted him into his arms.